Ministry of Magic
by alwaysaclaw11
Summary: Harry and Tom Riddle are rival magical nation leaders who are trying to work out a dispute between their two countries, but their powerful desire for each other keeps getting in the way. (I may add something some day, but it's complete for now. I think it ended in a good-ish place).
1. Fourteen Prisoners

**Authors's Note: Quick backstory - basically, this came from the idea that Tom succeeds with his diary and comes back as the sexy sixteen year old Tom (but he doesn't use Ginny to do it). While Harry is destroying horcruxes, Tom discovers that Harry is a horcrux so he can't let Harry die otherwise he will be in danger of dying. Magical Europe ends up split into two nations, one run by Harry, the other by Tom Riddle. Sorry for the delay - on to the story!**

Harry Potter leaned against the wall, seething, his arms crossed. When they met up, it was always here. In the study of this small chateau just outside of Paris, with its big open windows and distant view of the Eiffel Tower.

_Neutral territory._

Tom Riddle stood opposite him with his brown hair perfectly quaffed and his muscled body in a finely-tailored blue suit. With a smirk, he straightened his tie.

"Why do I want you so badly?" Tom asked under his breath.

"Because I'm the one person who doesn't give a damn who you are."

"You think so, Potter." He stepped closer to Harry who tensed.

"No. I know it."

Tom tilted his head, smiling the kind of smile that made Harry's head spin. "You don't fear me."

"Of course I do – but there's a difference. You fear me too."

With his back turned, Tom pulled his wand from his pocket and ran his fingers over it. "What brought on this explosion of courage?"

Harry grabbed Tom's shoulders, turning Tom to face him. "I'm a Gryffindor. Being born brought it on."

"Fair enough."Tom started drawing a lazy circle on Harry's neck, sending shivers through his body. "But I have another question for you, Harry? Why do you want me?"

"I don't," replied Harry firmly.

"You're lying." Tom grabbed Harry's red tie and loosened it.

"Am I?"

"Yes." Tom's lips grazed Harry's earlobe and Harry could not stop himself from whimpering.

"Fair enough" Harry tugged away from Tom, stepping quickly away. If he wanted to get out of here without... well, without _that_, then he'd have to keep his distance.

"Are we going to do this all night? Because there are other things I'd like to be doing instead."

Harry shook his head."You think that's what I came here for?"

"It's exactly what you came here for." Tom undid his own tie and let it slip to the floor.

With his teeth gritted together, Harry resolved to focus on his actual purpose for being there. "Fourteen prisoners."

Tom sighed and collapsed on a plush leather arm chair."And we're off to the races."

Feeling anger rising up inside him, Harry stormed up to Tom. "You have fourteen of my people and I'm here to ask for them back."

Tom looked slightly amused as he said,"Release Bellatrix and Wormtail and I'll return _three_ of your little friends."

Harry shook his head. He needed to ask the question he'd been thinking all along. The obvious one."Why aren't they already dead?"

Tom brushed some lint off his pants, his red eyes glinting like rubies."The ginger one amuses me... Why do _you_ think?"

Nobody was more frustrating than Tom Riddle. Harry could just... just... slap him, punch him, kiss him, touch him...

Harry backed up, realizing he needed more distance. "So I'd have to come here tonight."

"I do love to watch you beg."

"Go to hell," Harry snarled.

"If I ever die, I imagine I will." With a yawn, Tom stood from the chair and closed in on Harry again.

_Couldn't he just leave me alone? Or go back to trying to kill me?_

"You'll die. I'll make absolutely certain of that," said Harry with as much anger as he could muster. It was absolutely necessary to stay as mad at Tom as possible.

"But if I die, who'll do this?"Tom slid up behind Harry and wrapped his arms around his waist. Wet kisses trailed along Harry's neck. His eyes shut... he was about to give in...

Harry tore away from Tom's touch, missing the warmth the moment he moved.

_Focus, Harry. _"Longbottom, Lovegood and Weasley."

Tom's laugh was cold, empty. "You're out of your damn mind if you think I'll give you your little girlfriend back."

A sudden surge of jealous jolting through him, Harry turned back to see Tom's handsome face staring.

"And you're out of your mind if you think I'm going to give your little girlfriend back."

Tom rolled his eyes."Bellatrix isn't-"

"She's in love with you," admitted Harry, but the words left a bad taste in his mouth.

"I do have that effect on people."

"I loathe you." Harry sneered.

"I have that effect on people too." Tom sighed, the redness in his eyes dulling slightly. "I'll give you Finnigan, Lovegood and Longbottom."

_Arrogant bastard._

"That's cute," said Harry.

Any hint of relaxation in Tom's countenance disappeared. "What is?"

"That you think I'm actually negotiating with you."

"I thought that's – oh, that was just you having a little bit of fun," said Tom."This is why in some circles you have a reputation for being a pain in the ass."

"I've cultivated that reputation."

Tom stared out the window, releasing a long sigh."That's your decision?"

"The Ministry doesn't negotiate with terrorists," replied Harry.

Tom turned around, sending a sensation of raw, magical power through the room. "So I'll ask you again. Why are you here?"

"You're going to release all fourteen prisoners."

Tom showed off a few of his perfectly white teeth, his pink lip curled. Harry pushed away his desire to feel those lips against his.

"I'm really not," said Tom.

"Yes you are. And you want to know why?"

With a swift movement, Tom was next to him again, whispering in Harry's ear."Enlighten me."

Harry ducked away from Tom, clinching his fists."Because I've had it," Harry shouted.

Tom raised an eyebrow, a devilish look that made Harry's stomach drop."I don't think your security council is going to let you-"

This time Harry stepped closer to Tom, refusing to back down, to break eye contact. His friends were in danger and he had to save them. "It'll take fifteen minutes to have my spies in the WIA take out several members of your high council, and an hour after that to have my allies in the muggle government fly a pair of stealth fighters over the city and drop some bombs just to see if they work. And the moment, the moment, the fire burns out, I'm ordering the 20th Auror Division to take your capital."

Trying to catch his breath, Harry waited for Tom's response.

Tom smiled. "Merlin it turns me on with you talk like that. Let's have sex."

Frustration mounting, Harry's shoulders slumped. He couldn't take much more of this torture. "No."

"May I ask why not?"

"I have the unique experience of having done it before." He could smell Tom, so warm and spicy and inviting but he wouldn't give in.

"I didn't hear you complaining last time."

Unable to take the temptation for a minute longer, Harry grabbed his wand began to cast the patronus that would take the message to his Shacklebolt, the security council chairman. Harry had not been bluffing.

"What are you doing?" asked Tom.

"Making the call."

Tom shook his head, a blush growing on his smooth cheeks. "They're already on their way back."

Harry dropped down his wand, the silvery patronus melting away."Excuse me?"

"Your fourteen friends are being escorted across your borders at this very moment."

It was impossible.

"What?"

Tom leaned in, his hot breath against Harry's neck. "Your welcome."

"I stood here arguing with you."

"You also stood here threatening to carpet bomb a highly populated city center, an act I highly admire by the way." Tom tugged on Harry's tie and it slipped away from his neck. He reached up and adjusted Harry's glasses.

His heart pounding frantically, Harry was doing everything to keep saying no to Tom but it was hard when Tom's nimble fingers were working open the buttons on his shirt.

_One last feeble attempt._

"If this was your plan to get me into bed, you should know it didn't work," said Harry.

Tom bit down on Harry's ear, making him wince."It really did."

Tom's lips crashed into Harry's, making him growl. It _had _worked. Of course it did. As much as he pretended otherwise, Harry wanted Tom every bit as much as Tom wanted him.

As their mouths moved together, Harry started working the buttons on Tom's shirt until it was completely open and he was able to push the fabric over his shoulders. Harry couldn't help but stare. Tom's body was perfect – lithe but muscled, cut abs and sharp hip bones.

"Like what you see,"hissed Tom.

"Shut up."Harry slipped out of his shirt and brought their bare skin together. His fingers wound in Tom's hair. With surprising ease, Tom lifted Harry off the ground and backed him up against the wall. Harry's legs wrapped tightly around Tom's waist as lips sucked on Harry's neck.

Tom dropped him to the ground and spun Harry so his back was pressed to Tom's front. Long fingers worked his belt buckle, causing Harry's feet to tingle and his mind to go fuzzy with desire. Tom reached to the desk by the window and knocked everything onto the floor. Without warning, Tom grabbed Harry neck and pushed him face down on the desk.

Harry's breath hitched, his legs numb and heart racing. He would be lying if he said he didn't want it, but he was still pissed at Tom – and if this was going to happen, it wasn't going to happen like this. Not tonight, at least. Harry pulled out of Tom's grasp and turned around to face him.

"You want me?" breathed Harry who could feel Tom shaking.

"You know I do."

"Then we're doing this my way." Harry pulled Tom's wand out of his pocket and flicked it toward the corner of a room. A large bed appeared out of thin air complete with pillows and linens.

Tom smirked. "How traditional of you, sweetheart."

Harry whispered hoarsely in Tom's ear. "Nothing about us is traditional."

A shaky breath escaped Tom's lips and he seemed about to say something but Harry kissed him before he could. As their mouths met, the kissing grew faster, wilder. Before he knew it, Tom's legs were backed up against the bed and his arms around Harry's neck, pulling him down on top of him.

Harry kissed down Tom's neck and chest.

"Harry... oh, Harry."

It was so strange to hear his name on Tom's lips being said with such abandon, such want. But whenever they did this, which had been more times than Harry would like to admit to himself, he had to shut down a part of himself. The part that knew this man had killed his parents, had tried to kill him.

But Tom felt so perfect, he looked so damn perfect, that another part of him said to hell with it. To hell with what was right – he just wanted to feel good, even if it didn't last, even if he regretted it.

"Tom," Harry sighed into his ear.

Tom smiled. A genuine smile.

"What?"

"You've never said my name before while we-"

"Of course I have," said Harry.

Tom's hands grabbed Harry's face and forced him to look into his red eyes. "No you haven't."

With that, Harry kissed him again, forgetting everything and everyone except for the man lying beneath him.

"Merlin, Harry," breathed Tom, turning over on his side. "That was – _damn_, sweetheart."

_I know._

Shaking his head, trying not think about how wonderful he felt and how much he wanted to grab Tom and do it again, Harry climbed out of bed and reached for his boxers. He had started to put them on when Tom said,

"Those are mine."

Scowling, Harry tossed the boxers at Tom, grabbed the other pair and pulled them on swiftly. He found his pants that were in a pile on the floor and his shirt draped over the chair. Tom's eyes never left Harry as he slipped into his shirt and tugged on his pants. While he was buckling his belt, Harry felt that old eruption of anger inside him and turned to Tom who was still blushed and sweaty from what they'd just done.

"I swear to Merlin, Tom, the next time you so much as get near one of my people, I'm not going to show up here. I'm not going to play this game with you. I won't respond calmly, or reasonably, or rationally. I will blow your entire nation off of God's green earth."

**Thanks for reading. Please review and let me know what you think. I'm on a huge ship Tom Riddle with everyone kick right now so if you have a character pairing you'd like me to do with him for a one shot, let me know and I'll see if I can come up with something. Also I have Tom Riddle tumblr which has some graphics for this fic and some of my others if you want to take a look. It is wearetheriddle at tumblr dot com  
**


	2. The State Dinner

**So folks, here is some more Tom and Harry but there is also some random magical politics because I think the idea of how the Ministry works would be really interesting. Also, the politics will probably seem a bit American because my knowledge of UK government is lacking... anyway... there will be more sexy Tom and Harry in here I promise.**

Harry stood behind his desk. The late afternoon sun shone brightly through the curtains, illuminating the two couches in the center of the room and the plush-threaded rug. He adjusted his tie, buttoning his suit jacket, trying to ignore the burning glare of his chief advisor, Hermione Granger.

Everyone in the Ministry was edge today. For good reason.

Arms crossed over her white blouse, Hermione said,"This is a terrible idea."

"Diplomacy is not a terrible idea," replied Harry, his head pounding from the hours of work he already had behind him.

"We're not talking about diplomacy, Minister, we're talking about turning the Ministry ballroom into a reunion episode of _The Addams Family."_

He wasn't going to admit it out loud since the State Dinner had been his idea, but inviting Tom Riddle and his street gang into the Ministry to wear tuxedos, drink cocktails and make small talk, might not have been one of his most inspired ideas. Yet he stood by the necessity to create some sort of economic peace between the two bordering nations.

Running his hands over his face, Harry sighed."Hermione, you've known me for nearly twenty years, you can call me Harry."

"Yes, Minister." Hermione's hair was tied in a tight bun, making her sharp features look especially harsh. As usual she wore a blue skirt, though sometimes she'd mix it up with grey. Tonight she'd have to break that streak and wear a gown.

"Now go put on something pretty," said Harry, trying to distract her from her mission to make him even more nervous for the dinner. What no one realized though was that the stress was worse for him because Tom Riddle would be in the building – and whenever he and Tom were near each other things just a little well... heated, in more than one way.

"These people-"

Harry waved his hand dismissively, even though he knew she was right. "You don't have to remind me what they've done. But this isn't about that. This is about the other thing."

"Trade sanctions?"

Harry signed a piece of parchment he'd been putting off for a while then put his quill down."Yes and bring Draco up to speed on the Anti-Curse Legislation before the press briefing. He said someone from _The Daily Prophet_'s been sniffing around-"

Hermione nodded."Corner. He's new- wants to prove himself."

"Tell Draco's he needs to put a lid on it."

Hermione scribbled down a note then looked up at Harry, her features softening."His parents are coming to the state dinner – so that's going to be, you know, a thing."

"I would imagine."

"So what should we-"

"I'd suggest a large snifter of firewhisky – and maybe you could do a little dance for him."Harry smirked. Ever since Draco had started working for them, tensions had eased. Choosing the Ministry over Riddle's regime went a long way with Harry and Hermione.

"Yes, sir." Hermione smiled.

"Thank you, Hermione."Harry nodded towards the door. He had a busy day ahead of him and was already several hours behind.

"Thank you, Minister," she replied, turning on her heel and leaving his office.

Colin, his aid, who was young and blonde, and always eager, stepped into the room."It's Severus, sir."

"Thank you, Colin," breathed Harry, preparing himself for inevitable fight to come. Certain people thought he should never have appointed Snape, but Hermione stood behind it – and so did he. There was no one better if they wanted a man to craft a strong message for the Ministry.

As sullen as ever, Severus Snape, director of communication, swept into the room, his cloak snapping behind him."We need to revisit the wording of the speech for the dinner."

"Hello, Severus," said Harry, tired of having his same argument over and over.

"We have to revisit-"

"How many times have we been over that just this week- The speech you wrote is fine."

Severus shook his head, ears bright red."'it's time to seek peace rather than'-"

"You want to change the wording?"

"I want to change the sentiment. We shouldn't be handing them an olive branch."

Harry had been hearing this argument for days. Severus Snape was no fan of Harry's plan to end trade sanctions with Eastern Europe but Harry had to make him see it was the only way.

"It's not an olive branch. It's just what there is. Riddle and his band of not-so-merry asshats... they're not going anywhere and we just have to-"

Severus sighed, his back straightening."The Ministry should be a force. It should be a beacon. Isn't this what we waded neck deep in the water for? Isn't this fight why we suit up in the morning?"

_Of course it was, but there were other things to consider now._

Harry slammed his fist on the desk. Severus just did not get it."Dammit, Severus. The speech is fine."

Swallowing, the fire in his eyes, dulling to warm embers."Yes, sir." He turned his back and headed to the door.

Harry understood how Severus felt. He didn't like the idea of having to prance around like their nations were friends, but they had to try and give both countries some sort of future. And if prancing had to be involved, then so be it.

"Severus... it's what there is,"sighed Harry, sounding defeated.

Severus's black eyes flashed to him."Yes, sir."

* * *

Hermione headed down to Draco's office – upset that she would have to be the one to tell him about his parents but he was standing in the bustling room where the assistants and secretaries worked at their desks. Draco's arms were in the air, his silver eyes sparking, a smile drawn across his face. It had been quite the scandal when Draco Malfoy chose to side with the Order but he had been an invaluable asset to the Ministry since then.

"Success is mine," he shouted. "Come and marvel at my brilliance for it shines like a thousands suns." Draco's arm fell across Hermione's shoulder. She twitched at his touch. "Like a thousand suns, Granger, a thousand."

Mary, Draco's assistant, looked up from the parchment she was writing on."The House approved his candidate for the Department of Mysteries. I'm to feed him grapes and expensive cheese."

"I see," said Hermione, steeling herself for the bomb she had to drop on Draco. "You might want to put some of that shine back in your pocket."

"The state dinner?"he asked.

"Your parents are-"

"Yeah. Okay."His joyous demeanor melted away and he took a deep breath, changing the subject. "Corner keeps hinting we've got opposition on the Anti-Curse legislation."

Draco walked toward the press room and Hermione followed. Whenever he received bad new, Draco would get all professional and focused. She was finally able to keep up with just when and how his demeanor would change.

"We do. Neville's got it from Cahill in Appropriations. Bones and Parks, they -"

"Have a problem with the addendum about dark objects with historical significance?"

Hermione nodded.

"What do you want me to do? Corner's going to ask the question," said Draco.

"Don't call on him. Take a question from Luna-"

"You want me to snub the _Prophet _for the _Quibbler?"_His eyes widened.

"She'll ask you about trade sanctions and the state dinner-"

Draco crossed his arms, glowering at Hermione."And possibly about nargles."

"There's that too."

Before he stepped through the doors to his press room, he grinned."The Minister said you were going to do a little dance for me."

"Go." Hermione glared. At least there was little fun left in Draco even after the bad new.

* * *

Neville's eyes hurt, his body ached and jittered. All he'd had all day was three cups of black coffee. The room was strangely bright and he could hardly bear to look at the drab wooden table and two blank faced women sitting across from him.

He rubbed his head, messing his hair slightly. "We've been at this for hours. Can't we-"

The blonde one, Susan Bones, snarled,"We're not backing down on the reservations. There's absolutely no chance of that."

Neville said what he'd been saying all afternoon. It was getting old."There's absolutely no chance the Minister will sign the legislation if you attach the reservations."

The other woman, Katie Parks, who Neville remembered from Hogwarts sat back casually in her chair. "There's not a chance the Minister will see the legislation without the reservations."

"You'd kill an important law because for campaign donations?"snapped Neville.

"That's not why we're-"said Susan.

"It's exactly why. I know it, you know it and the Minister knows it. So don't- there was a time we used to on the same side, Susan. A time when we were friends." Neville was fed up with their agendas and back channels and pandering to the morally bankrupt just for a check.

"And because of that Potter thinks we're in his pocket." Parks slapped her hand on the table. Something jolted inside Neville. Harry Potter was the Minister of Magic – and these two women needed to respect that.

"I assure you _the Minister_ has plenty of things in his pockets without you two taking up room in there. You know what you both are? You're stupid." Neville shot to his feet, breathing heavily.

"What happened to poor little picked-on Neville?"Susan smirked.

Neville clenched his fist. That little boy who cried over Snape's bullying died long a go."I fought a war – and if you think you two scare me – well you're in for a hell of a surprise."

"Neville-"sighed Katie.

"I'll pass this legislation without your help – and I'll look good doing it. Or we can shove the attitudes and discuss waiting periods," demanded Neville.

* * *

The Ministry Ballroom glowed with twinkling fairy lights. The wallpaper had been charmed to shimmer gold and jasmine trees grew magically from the marble floor, filling the air with an intoxicatingly rich scent.

Guests were dressed in their finest. The men in elegant tuxes and women in ball gowns. Still it was easy to pick Riddle's Death Eaters – they all wore black and traditional cloaks with high collars.

All accept for Riddle himself.

Ginny remained at his side, her eyes nervously scanning the crowd of Death Eaters. She had been taken in Riddle's insane sleep with Harry mission so even though she had said nothing, he knew she was fighting mad about them being invited her.

"Lovely evening, Minister, Ginevra."Riddle glided up beside them, looking ethereal and, Harry's stomach lurched, oddly beautiful in a crisp white tux. His red eyes flashed to Ginny. "May I kiss you on the mouth?"

Harry bit his lip as jealousy coursed through him – the worse part being he wasn't jealous for Ginny but for Riddle. A fact, a beaming Riddle, surely knew.

"Ew."Ginny's lip curled and face paled like nothing more disgusting had ever been suggested.

Only Harry would have noticed it but Tom sent him a quick, mocking glance"Yes. I _am_ remarkably disgusting."

_You should be disgusting... I should find you disgusting... but I can hardly breathe you're so close to me. Cover it up-_

"What the hell is wrong with you?" barked Harry.

"A great many things."Tom sneered but still managed to look utterly dashing.

"You kidnapped me."Ginny folded her arms across her sparkling red dress.

Tom groaned. "I put you up in a Holiday Inn Express – I didn't lock you in a dungeon and throw acid on your face. And then I let you go."

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "There were guards at the door."

"You had cable, a fully stocked mini bar and free wifi – whatever that is."

Ginny let out a long breath then turned on her high heel."Let's just get this evening of hellish torture over."She disappeared into the crowd, just a sparkly dot amidst all the other sparkly dots.

Riddle was playing with his ring and it slipped from his grasp, clattering on the ground. "How clumsy of me."He bent down to pick it up and when he stood, touched Harry from his thigh to his chest. Harry's whole body clinched as Riddle leaned in and whispered, "Godric, you look sexy tonight. I just want to-"

_He is so not getting away with this tonight. _

"There's a broom closet on the other side of the those doors," breathed Harry

"Minister Potter – always so prudent- _what did you just say_?"

"See sometimes if I stop in my tracks you just run right past." Harry patted Tom's hand, sending shocks through his fingers. He ignored the pleasant sensation. "Enjoy the caviar. It's imported from Alaska."Harry winked and headed toward Ginny who was chatting with guests.

Before he could make it to Ginny, Harry bumped into an exhausted-looking Draco Malfoy. "Hello,"said Harry.

"Good evening, Minister."Draco sighed, shoulders slumped, bow tie mildly askew.

"Everything alright?"

"Yes sir."He nodded, but Harry knew better. There was no way it was alright for Draco to be in the same room with his estranged parents. Especially his father.

"Did Hermione do her little dance for you?" asked Harry, trying to lighten the mood.

"Not yet sir."

"Have you talked your parents?"

"I don't think they're particularly interested-"

Harry laid a strong hand on Draco's shoulder. He'd really come to see Draco as a friend over the last few years. "She's your mother. She's interested by virtue of being a mother."

"We both know that's not always the case."

"I'm not talking about every mother. I'm talking about your mother. You'll think about it?"

Draco half-smiled. "Yes, sir."

* * *

Later that evening, Hermione found Draco sitting at a table, his hands running voer his face. His grey eyes met her dark ones as she sat down, drink in hand."I think I need that dance right about now," he said.

"You can have this." Hermione handed him the rest of her firewhisky and he drank it in one swallow. "Bones will back down on Anti-Curse but-"

Draco groaned. It was obvious he knew what was coming. Hermione had seen the same thing."What does she want?"

"Reservations exempting artifacts from the last two wizarding wars," she admitted bitterly. Despite Neville's efforts, Parks and Bones were gunning for the Minister's Office and had no intention on backing down.

"The point of the legislation is to keep sympathizers from the last war from bringing the dark arts back to Western Europe. Which really makes you question the prudence of this dinner." Draco paused, his eyes casting to a group of black-clad Death Eaters. "The reservations are a red herring and they're stupid."

"You don't have to convince me. But it won't happen without them. If we don't have Bones, we don't have Parks and without Parks we don't get the appropriations committee and, I'm telling you, it'll never come to a vote."

Draco leaned back in his chair, chewing his lip. He sighed and said,"I'm letting Corner out of the box." Hermione had a feeling she knew where this was going as Draco continued, "We'll say senior Ministry representatives – Give him Bones and Parks's name – and a copy of the reservations. Their campaign donors may be a fan of bringing back the dark arts but most of the nation is decidedly not."

A jolt of excitement shocked through Hermione and she sat up straighter, her green dress too tight and rather uncomfortable."Then anyone in Bones or Parks's pockets is going to look like they're soft on the dark arts. Let him out of the box –" She sighed looking at the sadness still written in her friend's eyes. "Hey and Draco. You should dance with your mother."

Draco nodded, looked down at the empty glass and headed back in to the crowd, likely searching for Michael Corner who was certain to have a press pass.

Hermione noticed Harry making his way toward the small stage at the front of the room. A few seconds later, Severus Snape sidled up beside Hermione, scowling."It looks like the Minister's about to speak. I thought that wasn't supposed to be until after dinner."

_It wasn't._

"Maybe something came up."Hermione shrugged.

With a deep breath, Harry started the speech, looking dashing and powerful in his tux. He had this ability to radiate a kind of raw power whenever he spoke publicly. It was a sight to see but there was something lacking in that day's performance.

"It is time to start opening doors instead of closing them, time to seek peace rather than hostility. Revenge begets more revenge and hate more hate. It is time to put aside our differences instead of... highlighting them, time to work together... rather than encouraging division... you know, I'm sorry... My communications director has spent most of the last week trying to convince me to change the sentiment in this speech – and I disagreed with him - and he disagreed with me – and for those of you who know Severus Snape will know that's just an average Tuesday for us."

What was he doing? Hermione's heart thrummed. She didn't know if she was excited about him going off script or not. Severus looked somewhere between ecstatic and petrified.

"I'm going to say something I don't say very often. I was wrong and he was right. We fought tooth and nail about it all week – and he didn't want to – but he wrote the speech because I asked him to and that's the way it goes. But how can I, in good conscious, stand before you and talk of peace and reconciliation, and ending trade sanctions between our nations; how can I send Draco Malfoy into the press room to discuss Ministry support of Anti-Curse legislation; or send Neville Longbottom to go eight rounds on reservations with Susan Bones and the appropriations committee if I'm not willing to -

We live in an important age, an age for great witches and wizards, an age for statesmen not politicians. The decisions we make today matter, maybe now more than ever. If we are going to be about freedom from oppression, freedom from terror and freedom from tyranny, if we are going to be about freedom from darkness, we should be about it all the time, any place, and damn the consequences. If we're not, we should shut up. Thank you for coming. I hope you enjoyed the caviar."

That was the Minister of Magic Hermione knew. The one that made her feel proud and happy to serve at his pleasure.

"And now I remember how he got elected," sighed Severus.

"Yeah." Hermione smiled.

* * *

Everyone had left the party that night, it didn't last too long after Harry's condemning speech and he didn't much care. Though he did see Draco talking to his mother so that was small victory. He just wanted to relax, wanted to forget all the responsibility weighing on him. He wasn't even thirty yet and on days like this he felt like an old man, trying to hold the world together with his bare hands.

Something cold gripped his wrist and, before he could say anything, he was being tossed into a dark, vacant conference room.

"How could you just- You made me look an idiot,"A familiar voice snarled. It was Riddle. He flicked his wand, illuminating the room slightly. He flicked it again and Harry knew it was to lock and silence the room.

"Don't give me credit for God's work," said Harry, not in the mood for a fight like this. He just wanted to sleep, to forget the world.

"I am not in the mood for snarky Harry tonight."

Harry crossed his arms and looked away, hoping that if he ignored Riddle long enough he'd leave.

"Hey, look at me. Look at me!"shouted Riddle as he grabbed at Harry who kept tugging away. Harry felt a sharp slap across his face, numbing his cheek. Riddle stumbled backwards, eyes wide. "Harry... I..."

Harry turned around and punched Riddle as hard as he could across the face. Grimacing, he adjusted his jaw and glared at Harry.

"This isn't going to get us anywhere," said Harry.

"I came here to talk about trade sanctions."

"I can't do it, Tom. You know I can't end trade sanctions until you crack down on black market dealers which you have no intention of doing."

"What am I supposed to tell my people? That I got spanked by a kid in glasses?" shouted Riddle.

Harry's heart pounded. Always somewhere between hate and anger and desire and passion. It was slowly killing him. This relationship with Riddle but giving it up seemed impossible now. He only received relief from all the pressures of his job when he was in Riddle's arms.

"I'm not sure if it's escaped your notice but I'm the Minster of Magic and could give a damn what you're going to tell them. This is what I don't get. Honest to God, Riddle, I don't. We're constantly doing this. I'm constantly pissing you off. Yet you keeping come back no matter how many times I-"

"Are you totally daft, Harry. My problem isn't that it pisses me off when you go all John Wayne Freedom Fighter on me, it pisses me off that it makes me want to jump you."His words made Harry's face flush with want.

Riddle slammed Harry's back against the wall, the pain in his back sending excitement bounding through him but he knew he had to put up some sort of a fight even if tonight he had every intention of giving in.

"Not here,"growled Harry. "What if-" He wasn't sure what the what if actually would be but it was habit to fight Riddle on everything.

Riddle grabbed Harry's hips and flipped him around, cracking his glasses against the wall."I really don't care."

"Riddle-"

"I'll fix them when I'm finished."Riddle grabbed Harry's tux jacket and threw it aside. He pushed his hand under Harry's shirt and started roughly rubbing his back. "Stop fighting. You don't have to fight me."

Desire bubbled up in Harry then exploded. He tore off his shirt then turned around to see Riddle still dressed, just smirking.

"What?"snapped Harry.

"I just love looking at you." Riddle took a slow step toward him. Harry's breath lodged in his chest. A cold hand fell against his cheek and stroked his skin gently.

"Don't," breathed Harry. He couldn't take sweet Riddle. It confused him, made him feel things he shouldn't things besides sexual attraction.

"Why not?" asked Riddle. His lips hovered above Harry's then came down with surprising gentleness. Warm and tender and consuming. Harry could not help but lean into Riddle, wrap his arms around his neck. Allow Riddle full control over his tongue and mouth.

Gasping for breath, Harry pulled away. "Don't do this. Don't kiss me like you care about me."

Riddle laughed and leaned in, his hot breath steaming against Harry's neck. "That's just it, isn't it? I do care for you. That's what scares you. Don't be afraid of me." He grabbed Harry's hands and placed them on his bow tie. Slowly, Harry tugged it loose and slowly worked on the rest of Riddle's tux until he was standing there, entirely exposed.

"You're so-"

"Let me show you how I feel, Harry. Tonight you belong to me. I'll make it okay." Gently but passionately, Riddle kissed him as he unlocked Harry's belt buckled. Harry slipped out of his pants and together they slid down the floor, Harry's bare back rubbing against the rough carpet.

"I-"stuttered Harry but Riddle put a finger over his mouth.

"No more talking."His lips met Harry's softly, and Harry gave in to the powerful man above him. He was tired of fighting. And Riddle knew the truth about him, about the things he desired. So in these dark rooms he could be himself, not just the leader of the free magical world.

There was nothing he had to be but the name on Riddle's lips.

**A/N: I didn't have an intention on continuing this but it was just too much fun between the sexy Tom and Harry and the politics. These are basically going to be a collection of related one shots about Harry as Minister of Magic and his secret affair with Tom. Please review! And feel free to follow now because I'm hoping to write more.**


	3. City Burning Down

**Quick Note: I invented a country - which I will be doing a bit in these fics so I can mess around with politics and not have to worry about accuracy or accidentally offending anyone. Thanks.**

They'd spent the whole night together. Tangled in sheets with the moonlight spilling over them, washing Tom's face with warm light. Harry's whole body ached. Only a few hours of the night had been spent sleeping – and it was the first night Tom and Harry had ever actually _slept _in the same bed together at all. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about it.

Harry lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, breathing heavily. Tom leaned over and kissed his bare shoulder, warmth spreading through his arm the rest of his body.

"I can't feel my feet," growled Tom.

"Me either."Harry yawned. It was numbness but a good kind of numbness.

"That's not going to stop me."With a snarl, Tom leapt on top of Harry, devouring his mouth with a passionate, warm, melting kiss. Harry started to kiss back but he literally could not move, so he let his body slump.

"I'm exhausted, Tom."Harry breathed into Tom's ear as he licked and bit on his neck, lighting his skin with pure desire.

"That's okay. You can just lie there."Tom kissed him again, a cold laugh on his lips. Harry shoved Tom to the other side of the bed, then slipped out from under the covers, still feeling the touch of rough fingers against his skin.

"I feel dirty. I'm going to jump in the shower," said Harry, stretching.

"Was that a thinly veiled insult?"Tom propped a pillow up behind him. His cheeks were red, his normally combed hair a wild mess. If Harry didn't look away he'd never make it into the shower...

"Yeah. You see what I did there?" Harry walked the hardwood floor towards the bathroom down the hallway. He really did want to feel hot water running across his skin, easing the tiredness and tension in every muscle.

"I'm turning on some news."Tom called, reaching over the remote and turning the TV on.

"Okay."Ever since taking the job as Minister of Magic, Harry had to be tuned in to what was happening in the muggle world. It seemed Tom had found the same thing.

Harry was about to turn on the water when he heard Tom call,"Harry, get in here. You'll want to see this."His voice sounded confused with a hint of excitement, or adrenaline.

Harry hurried back into the room. On the screen, a massive fire was burning down a city street. Buildings crumbling into ash. Smoke rising. Fire trucks and firefighters sprayed water over the wreckage, but the flames just burned and burned. Still it was just a small truck and a small hydrant in the small country of the Andrica Republic. A nation of few resources – muggle or magic.

Harry shut his eyes and breathed out words mostly to himself, "I was going to lie here all day, you know that?"He searched his discarded pants for his phone and then the night stand and then under the covers. It was nowhere to be found.

"What are you doing?" asked Tom.

"Looking for my phone. I think I left it at home." Dressing as fast as he could, Harry spotted an old rotary phone hanging on the wall. "I wonder if that works."

"Harry, it's a fire. I'm sure the muggles can put out a simple fire without your help. Come back to bed. It's your day off."

"I haven't had a real day off since I took this job," said Harry as his fingers fumbled over the tedious indents on the phone. He groaned. "I have no idea how this works."

Tom slid out of bed and up behind him with the smoothness that made his skin shiver. Running his long fingers down Harry's arm, Tom took the receiver. "What's the number?"

He recited the number to his Deputy Chief Advisor, Tonks. Harry had forgotten Tom would have grown up in the muggle world when these kind of telephones were used. Tom quickly rotated the wheel back and forth then handed the phone to Harry, taking a quick opportunity to roughly kiss him.

"Thanks," said Harry.

The phone conversation would have sounded strange to anyone listening in. Tonks was on high energy on the other line, her words stumbling together, frantic.

_I know. Sorry. I was helping with a... family...thing with the... Dursleys... Dudley – uh Vernon and Petunia's anniversary...thing. I saw the fire – somethings off with it. I'm on my way._

Tom had one groomed eyebrow raised, that devilish look on his handsome but cold face. "Honey, next time ask me before you make up a lie."

Harry rolled his eyes. Being Minister of Magic meant more than dealing with the problems of his own country which now extended well beyond the UK. As the most powerful magical leader, he often dealt with problems between other nations and sent relief teams into nations that needed help."I have to-"

With a sigh, Tom flopped back down on the couch, flipping the channels."Go. Save the world. I'll just sit here and watch reruns of _The Golden Girls._"

* * *

Hermione had woken up that morning expecting a good day. The first thing she discovered was the fire in the Andrica Republic which she was doing her best to help with until Harry arrived but domestic policy was her strong suit. After Harry arrived, Hermione searched through some memos on her desk when she found something that made her bad day just that much worse.

Hermione grasped a piece of parchment in her hand as she made her way through the assistant desks to Draco's office. She threw open the door then slammed it, quickly taking in the lamp light and thick rug and smell of the coffee in Draco's grasp.

"Draco," she snapped.

He grinned, a goofy look of joy painted across his face. "I'm headed to a Chudley Cannons game tonight. Box seats, my friend, box seats. Right behind the goals." He sipped his coffee. " I'm going to be so close I will feel the air from the quaffle as it whooshes by me. It's a glorious day, Hermione."

Hermione's face flushed, eyes narrowed. She snarled through her teeth."I loathe you and everything you believe in."

To her delight, Draco's joyous countenance faded. "That kind of puts a damper on things."

"What is this?"Hermione slapped the parchment down in front of him.

Draco's silver eyes lifted to her. "I believe they call it parchment. It was invented in ancient Greece by philosophers so their students could record their inspired thoughts for future generations."

"Almost none of that was accurate." Hermione turned around, still fuming. After everything they'd been through... after she thought he'd changed! "You support Magic-Only at Hogwarts. You think that the law should not require muggles studies to be taught to students-"

Draco slumped, shaking his head. "In a global world, it's important that the wizarding community protects its children and its traditions from the outside influences that could disrupt the culture."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard!"Hermione shouted. After all the work she'd been doing with Board of Governors at Hogwarts to increase the quality of Muggle Studies being taught at the school. She was facing opposition from nearly every direction and she felt betrayed that Draco was not on her side after everything they'd been through.

The door to the office opened."Is everything okay in here?" Mary's blonde head leaned around through the crack in the open door.

"No," said Draco.

"Yes," replied Hermione.

"Okay."Mary nodded.

"Mary, did you get the memo for the meeting I have right now?" asked Draco.

"You don't have a meeting right now." Mary turned her head, confused. Of course, he'd try to pull a stunt like that – the git!

"Good. I'm scheduling him for the next two hours," Hermione smiled at Mary then glared at Draco. If only she could hex him with her mind alone.

"Mary!" Draco's eyes widened, looking betrayed.

"Sorry." Mary shrugged, darting from the room. Mary was smart enough not to want to deal with Hermione when she was on a mission – and she was on a mission to make sure Draco knew just how stupid and intolerant his stance on muggle current events, history and lifestyle being taught at magic schools was. As if wizards and muggles needed more reasons to see each other as different.

* * *

Rushed and overwhelmed, Harry hurried into his office, in a terrible mood. He should have known he wasn't going to get the whole day off to just forget the world and Tom was the only person who could make him forget.

Tonks, his main advisor on foreign issues, stood in front of his desk. eyes wide, relief in her face as she saw Harry.

"Did we call Ron?" Harry asked. He had appointed Ron Weasley to run the Federal Auror Department. He was always their first call in a situation like this.

"No, sir. He called us," said Tonks. Harry could not believe it. Foreign information spread through the press or information channels like the Wizard Intelligence Agency.

"He had this before we did?"

Tonks sighed. Immediately, Harry could tell he had just asked her the same question as she had been trying to understand all morning. Once again her voice became frantic. "There was spoiled pork, Minster. And food poisoning. A couple of guys called out sick from the auror department – so two other guys got sent in and they decided to take a detour because they had never been to Africa before and there was a floo mishap– long story short, they were there, sir."

Harry blinked. He only understood about half of that – and what he understood was just the exact kind of bizarre thing he expected from a day like this. "There was spoiled pork?"

Tonks shook her head."It was a confluence of events, Minister."

"So why aren't we sending in teams to help put out the fire?"Harry asked the obvious question. Aurors did missions like this all over the world. They'd pitch in if a country needed a little help with a problem. They knew just how to do it quietly and covertly enough that the muggles never noticed.

"They're refusing aid, Minister."Ron Weasley, who Harry thought still looked uncomfortable in a suit, swept into the room, his badge flashing on the belt of his pants. It had been months since Harry had seen his best friend and he really missed him.

"It's good to see you, Ron," said Harry truthfully, shaking Ron's hand.

"You too." Ron smiled and patted Harry on the shoulder.

"Why would they refuse-" Harry returned to the situation at hand. Maybe they could catch up at a later time.

"It's not a muggle fire. It's magic," replied Tonks.

"You're sure?"

"It's dark magic, sir," Ron finished with a curt nod. _Fantastic _was all Harry could think. _Just what he didn't need. _

"If it's dark magic then they're in violation of like twenty statues of the International Magical Treaty for Post-War Peace. Violating a code gets a country kicked off the International Council which means-" said Harry, leaning against his ornate desk.

"They'll no longer receive medical aid, economic bailouts or military assistance. Yes, sir," added Ron.

Harry had to make the wizading government of the Andrica Republic see reason. They had made the choice to use dark magic and now they needed to own that and let the Ministry clean it up. The Andrica Republic did not have the manpower, let alone the resources or the knowledge to deal with large accidents like this. If they were going to live through it, they'd need help.

"Tonks, speak with their ambassador," ordered Harry. Tonks nodded."Ron, make sure you have a few teams ready to go in on my command."

"Thank you, Minister," said both Ron and Tonks then they left Harry in the room, waiting for answers, filled with worry and concern. And frustration. Frustration that a small country like this could be so arrogant, so flippant when they depended on others for everything. But still he couldn't just let them burn. He wouldn't.

* * *

Hermione did not care what it would take. She would find a way to get through to Draco. To make him see her side of things. But she wasn't stupid. The two most hard-headed people at the Ministry were sitting across this desk from each other.

Draco's head lolled back as he complained."I'm so hungry. I thinking about eating a salad. I'm thinking about eating this." He picked up a multi-colored ceramic creature that appeared to be a mix between a walrus and a unicorn.

"What is that?"

He groaned."I don't know – it's a desk thing – Mary gave it to me for Christmas." His slender face pulled into a frown."I didn't eat breakfast."

"We can't shut out the non-magical world. It exists. It affects us. You think the magical world wasn't effected by Hitler during World War II or Manifest Destiny or imperialism?" Hermione dived head first back into the argument they'd been having. There was no way she was letting Draco get out of this.

"Of course, it's affected and that's the point, isn't it? We need to separate ourselves from the problems of the muggle world. Rise above them. We don't have the time or resources to deal with their issues on top of ours. And the International Statute of Secrecy."

Hermione could not take much more of this ludicrous anti-muggle garbage. The International Statute of Secrecy argument was code for putting up barriers against muggleborns. Nothing made her angrier."Seriously, if you bring the ISS into this, I will slap you like so much whatever."

"Can't we continue this argument over lunch? If I don't eat something soon I'm not even going to make it to the Cannons game. I'll waste away right here in this chair." He slapped his hand on the arm rest.

Hermione pursed her lips, still surging with anger. She was a little hungry too.

* * *

Harry sat on a chair in his office, looking out at Tonks whose face was stern and professional.

"You've spoken with the ambassador?" asked Harry.

"Yes, sir." Tonks swallowed.

"And we're sending in a team to stop the fire?" he asked hopefully.

She shook her head."They're still refusing aid, Minister."

"Under what false pretense are they doing this absolutely idiotic thing that they are doing right now?"

"They say they have it under control," said Ron as he stepped into the room.

"I imagine all the shop owners on that particular stretch of city block would beg to disagree."

Tonks's gaze flashed to Ron's as they seemed to share something secret between them."That's not the problem."

"Then what is?" asked Harry.

"The fire is heading toward a school and a low-income neighborhood. If this fire doesn't stop soon nearly a hundred people will watch their homes burn – and this is a deeply impoverished area. These people don't have home insurance, these people barely have food and most of them have children." Ron sighed. Harry could see the weight of the job in rings around Ron's eyes. Sometimes he wished he hadn't appointed Ron. He deserved the kind of normal life Harry would probably never have.

"And they're wiling to let these people-"

Tonks pressed her lips together."They won't give up their spot on the International Council to save some muggle homes." Harry could tell she was simply repeating what she'd heard the ambassador say.

Harry turned to Ron. "Do we have military options?"

"Not outside of invasion."

"And an act of war against a council member is a violation against the treaty and we'll get us thrown out," added Tonks.

"So we have no options?" Harry's stomach lurched. Was a whole city going to burn while they just sat by?

Tonks and Ron exchanged a troubling look. "We have one option, Minister," said Ron.

"Well what is it?"

"A non-treaty member-"

Harry's stomach hit the floor. He knew just what they meant and there was no way he would allow it. There was no way it would work..."Absolutely not."

"Minister-"Ron implored.

"I said absolutely not. You expect me to – and what in Merlin's name makes you think he'll say yes, that he's not sitting back watching this like it's good theatre?" That thought ate at Harry like termites across his skin. He was letting Tom in more than he should. Moments like this made him realize it – moments when he had to face what Tom Riddle was.

"We're out of options," said Ron, a look of desperation in his eyes. Harry knew there was no way they'd suggest going to Riddle if it wasn't life or death. And what kind of man would he be if he didn't ask? If he didn't do anything in his power to save innocent people?

* * *

Hermione walked into Harry's office, still fuming. Worse than ever, really."Good Afternoon, Minister. I came here to ask you for permission to go to lunch with Draco-"

Harry was standing behind his desk, fussing with some files. She knew about the call to Riddle. Tonks had come by during her and Draco's discussion and passed along the news. So Harry was just waiting for Riddle to come and she was, well, still fighting with Draco.

One of Harry's brows lifted."Since when do you need my permission to go to lunch?"

Draco sighed, his gaze holding with Harry's. "She says she always asks permission before going to lunch with evil dark wizards."

"Oh, well, okay then." Harry shrugged looking thoroughly unconvinced. Well Hermione had to remedy that. If she couldn't do it maybe Harry could make Draco see.

"Draco supports Magic-Only at Hogwarts," she said as strongly as she could manage.

A tired smirk grew on Harry's face."He really doesn't."

"Yes he does." Her voice became a bit too high and shrill. She cleared her throat.

Harry let out a small laugh. "No, Hermione, he doesn't. I had him write an op-ed piece on the subject since he would have a good grasp of the traditionalist argument so we'd be ready when we geared up for the fight."

_What!?_

Angry for a whole new reason, Hermione pivoted on her heel to glare at Draco."We argued about this for two hours."

Her smirked, those silver eyes glinting with mischief. "You made a two hour appointment."

"Draco-" she snarled.

Half-smiling, Draco looked her in the eye. "Hermione, Hogwarts should be a place of inclusion, of acceptance. It should be a place where students leave stronger, kinder, better people than when they walked in. Muggle Studies should be required for every student and shove whether or not their parents like it. It should be taught by the best teachers we can offer. Hogwarts should teach students that being magical doesn't make them superior but that their power is a unique responsibility they should use in service of one another. That's where I stand."

A warmness blossomed in Hermione's chest she couldn't explain as she gazed back at Draco. People really can change... become who they were truly meant to be. She'd watched Draco go from a cold bully to a thoughtful, generous man.

Shaking his head, Harry said,"Have fun at lunch."

* * *

Still in shock, Hermione followed Draco out the door. Once again very glad to have him on their side.

Tom Riddle swept into the room looking obnoxiously breathtaking in his black suit and tie. Harry's nerves jittered through his limbs.

"Afternoon, Riddle," said Harry, trying not to sound like he'd spent the morning kissing and caressing this man – as if there was a way to sound like that or not sound like that. Harry's heart beat kicked against his chest.

"Your assistant denied me a cookie, Minister," said Tom non-nonchalantly. Colin had this jar of cookies on his desk that he gave to people who visit the Minister's office – but if he didn't like them...

"That's almost hard to believe." Harry sighed.

Tom's gaze landed on Ron who was standing, glaring, arms crossed. "Good to see you again, Ronald. How are the wife and kids?"

"Not that well seeing as they don't exist."

Tom grinned like a jungle cat. "Excellent, then."

"Lord Riddle, we want you put out the fire," stated Harry firmly. Tom was the best at distraction and they needed to stay focused.

"But starting them is so much more fun and why can't the almighty Ministry do it? I'm sure Ronald's aurors are more than up to the task." Tom winked at Ron – whose face turned an even angrier shade of red.

"They won't let us," admitted Harry.

"Because they started the fire with dark magic?"Tom was no idiot. He must have seen this coming the minute he got invited here.

"Yes."

His demeanor hardened."What do I get?"

"The intrinsic joy of doing something out of the goodness of your own heart," replied Harry. _Like that was going to fly._

Ignoring Harry, Tom turned to Tonks."Nymphodora, you're looking absolutely radiant this evening."

"I haven't slept in twenty-four hours and I've been wearings these pants two days in a row. So shut up." Her teeth gritted hard together. The hatred for this man was palpable in the room which just made Harry feel heavy sense of guilt.

Like a flash, Tom's eyes were back on Harry."What do I get?"

Harry had been planning for this. Secretly. But he wasn't stupid either. "Ron, Tonks. Can you give us a minute?"

They reluctantly nodded then slowly made their way into the hall, leaving Tom and Harry alone. Tom stood by the window, the light reflecting off his face enhancing the curve of his chin and his sharp cheekbones.

"I can't give you anything," said Harry, moving closer to Tom. An instinct whenever they were alone. The desire to touch him was almost unbearable.

"And I can't help you unless you do."

Here it was. The deal. It was always something he'd talked about with senior council – a card they could play in a tough spot."Bellatrix and Wormtail."

Confused flooded Tom's features. "You're going to release-"

"No...they're going to escape. Then you can go home and tell all your Death Eaters just what you've been dying to tell them Potter's Ministry has been overpowered by -" He would have one of Ron's guys unlock the cell and forget to schedule guards for the area. Tom got the dementors in the war so now Azkaban was guarded by prison aurors, a fact Harry was glad of.

Tom sat on the edge of the couch. He swallowed."Yeah."

Harry stood by him, looking down, demanding."You'll do it and you'll do it in secret. This is what you get."

"Agreed."Tom stood up and Harry looked at him for a moment. He didn't have to do this but Harry was thankful he did. A weird urge overtook Harry and he just gave into it – something he'd been doing recently when it came to Tom Riddle. He wrapped his arms around Tom and pulled him into a hug."What are you doing?"Tom's voice shook, his body tense.

"What does it look like?" Harry leaned his head into the crook of Tom's neck breathing in that cool familiar scent. Smiling, Harry released his hold on Tom.

Tom's features were scrunched as he scratched his head."Nobody – I mean – no one has ever _hugged _me before."His face softened as warm as Harry had ever seen it but only for a blink. Then his gaze hardened. " It's kind of gross."

He looked as aloof and empty as ever, but Harry knew better. Even if Tom would never admit it, a hug meant something. Hermione was the first person, other than the parents Harry couldn't remember, that ever hugged him. Certainly, Vernon and Petunia would never have showed him that kind of care.

There were moments when Harry realized just how alike he and Tom were – and how in that way it made sense how drawn they were to one another.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Sorry there were a few less sexy Tom/Harry moments than the other two. But I hope you still liked it. Please read and review. Thanks for all the favorites and follows!**


	4. A Cold War, Part One

Harry had not slept. Right after nearly all the staff had gone home, he received an urgent message from Shacklebolt. Riddle was up to something. Something that involved Death Eaters piling up between West and East Germany. But even after six hours, they weren't any closer to figuring out what he was up to – and Harry was beyond pissed.

The sun had just risen so the light in the office was low and pale. It would be a lovely morning if the world wasn't tearing apart at the seams.

"Hermione!" shouted Harry, pounding the door to her office. Where was she?

"Yes, sir?" she replied, hurrying in from her office which was connected to his by an adjacent door.

"Can someone bring me a headache draught and a cursed object of some kind to kill people with?"

Hermione's mouth dropped open and she leaned back toward the open door."For the sake of the tour group in the other room, I'm going to say that right there the Minister was just telling a little joke."

Harry shut the door."You could tell me when there are going to be people in your office?"

"I did, sir."

"You did?"

"Yeah." Hermione tucked the folder she was carrying under her arm, looking rather calm. He hadn't told her the bad news yet.

"Okay." With a sigh, Harry collapsed on the couch, hands in his head.

"Having a Riddle problem?" asked Hermione with a genuine smile.

"Tonks has information that he's militarizing the border."

"Excuse me?" Hermione nearly shouted, her face twisting up in annoyance.

"He's lining his Death Eaters up along the border."

"Do we have any idea what he's planning?"

"Tonks and I have been with Shacklebolt all night. It's a matter of national security – we need to keep Draco out of the press room until we can figure this out."

Hermione sat down across from Harry, a look of horror on her face."Are we evacuating the border towns?"

"Shacklebolt's putting a plan together. Some people are leaving of their own accord."

"I can't say I blame them, but the last thing we need is full scale panic." She paused, pursing her lips together. Harry knew she was gathering to courage to ask him what she's been wanting to ask him the whole time."Have you tried to contact Riddle?"

He looked down at the white scuff mark on his shoe. He half-smiled – Tom accidentally stepped on his foot. "I've been trying all morning," he whispered.

Hermione leaned back, exhaustion apparent. They were _all_ exhausted."How did it get like this?" she asked. "It wasn't supposed to be like this – sometimes I can just feel it."

Harry waited a long time but then finally answered. "I know, Hermione. Me too."

* * *

A year ago, Harry had been sworn in as Minister. He remembered that day as well as the day he found out he was a wizard. It was late into the night of the first night of his new job as Minister of Magic, but Harry couldn't seem to get out of the leather chair he was sitting on. Everything he'd just sworn to do weighed heavily on his shoulders. The whole world depended on him.

A cold voice rang from the shadows."Well, Minister. If I was a citizen of your lovely nation, I would have voted for you." Riddle slid into the office light, his stubbled face and ruby eyes illuminating.

Harry's heart jumped. What was that freak doing there? "If you're the kind of person voting for me, I think I'll resign."

"It's a compliment, Potter. I finally have someone equal to the task of opposing me." Riddle's voice had a way of slithering around him like a venomous snake, making the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

"If the Ministry wasn't equal to the task of opposing you before I took office, I'm pretty sure you'd be sitting in this chair, not me," replied Harry, his heart pounding. He hated being in the same room as Riddle.

Riddle sneered."I was sitting in it earlier. It didn't have enough back support."

"You shouldn't be here." Harry made his voice as harsh as possible.

"What are you going to do about it, Potter?" Riddle leaned over his desk, not far from his face. He could smell his minty toothpaste, a scent that provided an unwelcome churning in the pit of his stomach.

"I could kill you," said Harry, trying to sound intimidating, unsure if he could actually pull it off in the presence of Tom Riddle.

"I'd kill you first."

Harry rolled his eyes."You can't murder your final horcrux."

"Did I ever thank you for hunting all those down and destroying them?"

"No thanks necessary. It was my pleasure." Harry jumped up. "Now you _really _have to leave!"

Tom snatched Harry's quill and tore off a piece of parchment from the stack on his desk. He scribbled something then handed the scrap to Harry. It was an address. "This is for when you need to speak with me and you'll need to speak with me. It's in _neutral territory_."

* * *

The speech was the next day. Severus had tried writing it over and over. He tried staffing it out but Potter had asked him to do it personally. Now that he thought about it, Potter probably did it on purpose just to make him crazy. So he gave in. He would do the one thing he hated doing most: Ask for help.

"Mary, where's Draco?" Severus asked Draco's assistant.

"He's barricaded himself in his office," Mary replied.

He raised an eyebrow. Draco was always up to something."Do I want to know why?"

"Hermione's keeping him out of the press room."

"Why?"

"I don't know but you all have a briefing in the Minister's Office in ten minutes."

Severus groaned. He had a lot of work today. The last thing he needed was to get thrown off schedule by an emergency meeting. Then again, emergency meetings were anything but rare. "You couldn't have told me that earlier?"

"I sent an interdepartmental memo."

"When are you going to learn I don't read those?" Severus asked as he flicked open the door to Draco's office. "Mary said you're barricading yourself."

"That makes me sound like I'm afraid of the press core," said Draco.

"You're not?" Severus sat down on the couch by the window that overlooked the assistant's desks.

"I am - I just don't want to sound like it."

"What's going on in the Minister's Office in ten minutes?"

"I'm sure it has something to do with the reason I'm not allowed to take questions from the press." Draco sorted through some files then swished his wand, floating them all back into the cabinet.

"We need to go over the speech the Minister's doing when the World Cup team arrives."

"Shouldn't that be a conversation for Neville?"

Severus sighed. He did not want to admit to this but here it went. "We seem to share a common _lack_ of knowledge in a certain area."

Draco smirked mischievously."Are you asking me about sex?"

Severus glared. _Obnoxious kid. _"You know I could fire your ass?"

"You fire me twice a day. It never seems to stick."

Severus paused then gave in. "Quidditch."

"What?"

"It seems that both Longbottom and myself fail to understand certain nuances of the wizarding sport of quidditch."

"What nuances?"

"Quidditch, mostly."

"The speech is tomorrow."

"Yes."

Draco's eyes widened, a smile etched on his lips. It was easy to see he was enjoying this. "And you're here _now_?"

"Yes," mumbled Severus.

Draco sat down in his office chair and rolled it over in front of Severus. "Let's forget the fact that you're coming a little late to this and celebrate the fact that you showed up at all."

Severus's eyes narrowed. "That's what I was thinking."

* * *

Harry's senior counsel stood around him in his office. He, Hermione and Tonks had just explained the situation at the border. All faces looked to him for answers, direction... all things he felt he did not have at the moment.

There was a long pause.

"Did you get a hold of Riddle?" asked Severus, scratching his head.

"Yeah," replied Harry. It had been an awkward conversation. He found it difficult to talk to Tom with people listening in, when Tom was just a burning face in the fire place.

"What did he say?" asked Neville whose hands were in stuffed in his pockets.

"That he's militarizing the border." Hermione ran a hand through her hair. Harry been through this with Hermione and Tonks, over and over, and none of the answers Riddle gave made sense.

Draco's stared at Hermione, imploring her to say more. "Did he give a reason?"

"Yeah because when Riddle does things he always runs the rationale behind it past me," snapped Harry, regretting his tone immediately, but Draco didn't seem phased by it.

Hermione's licked her lips, looking thoughtful. "He gave a reason."

"You're not going to believe it," said Harry, his voice softened.

Severus shook his head then looked up. "He's guarding his borders from immigrants."

"Because people all over the world are lining up to join a country whose main accomplishment is that they can still bake bread," said Draco. Neville laughed under his breath.

Harry gripped the edge of the desk, trying to calm the anger boiling against Tom. "We make a lot of fun of Riddle's Territory in this room, and between us, and that's fine. But we're damn fools if we forget that what his country lacks in-"

"Decent healthcare, schools and a fair justice system," mumbled Neville.

"They more than make up for in military strength," said Tonks, exchanging a quick glance with Harry.

"We have no idea why he's_ actually _militarizing the border?" asked Draco.

"No," said Hermione.

Draco's face paled. "He could be planning invasion."

"Yes." Tonks's face was hard, narrowed by her concentration.

Harry let out a long sigh. "I just fought a war. I don't want to fight another one. Let's find a sensible way to stop this. We'll meet with Shacklebolt again in half an hour?"

"Yes, sir," said Hermione.

"Excuse me Minister, I can't avoid the press room forever," said Draco.

"Tell them what Riddle told us – and that we'll have a full briefing in two hours," Hermione answered the question for Harry.

"Why two hours?" asked Draco, brow furrowed.

"That's how long it will take to call an emergency meeting of the House and the Council," said Hermione, a flash of fear in her eyes. A fear that was more of a burning fire inside Harry.

Draco's face scrunched in confusion. "Why would we need-"

Harry steeled himself then met Draco's gaze. "The House and the Council declare war."

* * *

Harry remembered the first time he met Riddle at the chateau in France. He had come there to tell Riddle he wanted nothing to do with his secret, closed-door meetings.

"That didn't take nearly as long as I thought," replied Riddle, perched on the edge of the desk in the corner of room, his suit jacket off and sleeves rolled up. Harry's start started to race.

"Don't make me regret this," Harry managed to say.

Riddle smirked, slipping off the edge of the desk and making his way towards Harry. "How can I help you, Potter?"

"I'm not here to ask for your help."

"Don't be so proud." Riddle was so close now that Harry could smell him. Like breathing in potion fumes. Like the spark of a charm.

"It has nothing to do with pride, Riddle. It's a matter of principle." Against what his body felt, Harry crossed his arms, blocking his body from Riddle's nearness.

Riddle leaned in and gruffly whispered in his ear. "Oh, Potter. Always tripping on his principals."

Shivering but trying to hide it, Harry replied, "I'm leaving." He turned towards the door. Riddle roughly grabbed his wrist, sending a fiery jolt through his arm.

"Whether you like it or not we are both leaders of the two most powerful magical nations in the world. We need to work together which is something you and I both know we can only do in secret. We both have things to prove to our people – so out there, we have to be those things, but those things aren't always in the best interest of either one of our countries. Here – we can say what needs to be said, do what needs to be done." Riddle's speech seemed somewhat rehearsed but instead of making Harry feel as if it was insincere – it simply seemed as if he Riddle had given a great deal of thought to this.

Harry paused then replied, "Did you do this with the last Minister?"

Riddle still had a hold of his wrist. "No. I didn't trust him and he didn't trust me."

"We don't-" Harry tugged away, experiencing an unsettling loneliness as they parted.

Riddle's eyes stayed locked with Harry's. "I know you can't kill me and I can't kill you. It gives us a measure of trust."

Harry couldn't help but notice just how close they were to each other, just how strong a bond like a thick cable, seemed to tie them there to that spot in that chateau in France. Like they couldn't walk away from each other. Like they were frozen.

"That's not trust. That's a cold war," whispered Harry.

Riddle smiled the half-smile Harry would come to know well over the next year. "Yes, Harry. I guess it is."

* * *

Severus leaned his head back against the window, exhausted, annoyed, and pretty much every other negative emotion. Not that it was unusual. But having to be taught by Draco just magnified all those feelings.

"You understand the function of a quaffle?" asked Draco, his voice weirdly professorial. Enough that it made sarcasm Severus's only possible response.

"A waffle?"

"A quaffle."

Severus sighed. "I know what a quaffle is."

Draco looked non-plussed as he continued asking question. "Well what is it?"

Severus gave his best answer. He really didn't like quidditch. Any sport that James Potter could have been good at was not something he cared for. "A ball that hits people in the head."

Still not bothered by Severus's lack of progress, Draco said calmly. "That's a bludger."

"I'd like to get one of those for the speechwriter's office." Severus scratched his head thinking of all the other places he would rather be

"I remember you being at quidditch games at Hogwarts," said Draco thoughtfully.

"Yeah, well, apparently I wasn't paying attention."

Draco paused. "How many chasers are on a team?"

"Do I really need to know this to write a speech?"

"No you need it for the question and answer session after the meet-and-greet."

_What?!_

"I thought you were doing that."

Draco smiled, his lips a thin, crooked line across his face. "The Minister wanted you."

Severus groaned. Only Potter could cause him so much grief. "I should've voted for the other guy."

* * *

Harry had come as fast as he could. Hermione was the only one who knew about the secret meetings with Riddle, though he never discussed what happened during them with her. Not the political stuff or the physical stuff. This was their place alone. Still, he didn't have long. Soon others would be asking questions and he needed a solution for Draco's press meeting.

Tom sat on the leather loveseat, looking over the fireplace, a cigarette trapped between his fingers.

"What's going on?" asked Harry.

Without turning to look at him, Tom flicked his cigarette into the fireplace. It sparkd then fizzled out. "I told you."

"Tom," sighed Harry, sitting down beside him.

"We're having an influx of immigration -" Still Tom wouldn't look at him.

Harry grabbed Tom's chin and turned it face was something new in his face. Sadness, maybe.

"Don't do this," said Harry. "We've always been honest here. It might take us some time to push our egos out of the way but, in the end, we tell each other the truth. I'm tired, Tom, let's skip the posturing tonight."

Tom took Harry's hand, removing it from his chin, but he didn't release Harry's fingers. "There's unrest along the border. Riots between the unblemished pureblood families-"

"Like the Lestranges?"

Tom nodded. "And the more lax wizarding families."

"Like the Malfoy's."

Harry rubbed his fingers along Tom's knuckles.

"There's not that many purebloods left, if they start killing each other." Tom swallowed.

"Why not just tell me this?" Harry's voice was soft as he spoke to Tom. It was what it was. A whisper shared amongst lovers. There was no pretending otherwise.

"Because it looks like I can't control it – and because it's leaking out of the border towns and into-" Tom stared at his feet. They were same shoes that gave Harry the scuff on his.

"Your court."

Tom let of over Harry's hand but turned towards him, scooting closer. There was cracking desperation in his voice. "I'm a half-blood Harry. My father was a muggle. My mother, though an heir of Salazar Slytherin, didn't even get her magical powers until she was in her teens. How am I supposed to hold these people together? Make them see- we need each other_._"

_We need each other. _Those were words Harry never thought he'd hear Tom Riddle say, but Harry knew better than anyone how much power and responsibility like they had could change your internal nature.

He had hated Tom Riddle for so long. Harry knew he would be angry his whole life, saddened, broken, by what Tom had done to him all those years ago. But maybe there was room for not hating. For melting their cold war.

"Do you know why your mother didn't get her powers until she was older?" asked Harry. Tom just raised his eyebrows. "Because she was abused, neglected, insulted. Her father and brother suffocated the magic out of her. She never had a chance."

Tom lifted his hand to Harry's cheek and stroked the hair over his ear. "Neither did we."

Harry shut his eyes, reveling in Tom's tender but passionate touch.

"No, but we do now." With that Harry captured Tom's lips in a kiss, feeling his breath leap from his chest at the simple gesture. "We'll fix this, Tom. Together."

**A/N: Thanks for reading. This is in two-parts so the next one will continue the stories directly from this and we'll see how Harry and Tom manage to resolve this issue and how their affair started. Also, the stuff about the Malfoys and Lestranges I got from Pottermore which says that unlike the Lestranges, there are plenty of halfbloods in the family line whereas there is inbreeding with some pureblood families because they are so committed to magical purity. I figured in a country like Riddle's without muggleborns and few half-bloods this would be likely step in "racism". Please review - questions, comments, ideas of things you'd like to see in this fic, constructive criticism etc. Thanks for all the reviews, favorites and follows.**


	5. A Cold War, Part Two

Tom sat beside Harry on the couch, his fingers gripping into his dark hair. Harry sat stiffly beside him, unsure of what to do. Harry needed to get back to the Ministry soon.

"I haven't felt like this in years – since before I knew I was a wizard..." whispered Tom.

Harry scooted closer to him, a strange connection drawing him in. "What do you mean?"

Tom's eyes met Harry's, the red swirling like warm, fresh blood. "I've lost control, Harry."

Trembling, Harry laid a hand on top of Tom's. He relaxed slowly. His thumb rubbing slow circles on his flesh. "Tom..."

There was a long, heavy pause. "... I'm scared," Tom's voice cracked. Harry couldn't believe it. Tom wasn't afraid of anything. Certainly not the violence of his own violent people.

"Not of this, you're not. You can't be," said Harry sternly.

Tom tore away from him, pain contorting his handsome features. "Harry, I open up to you and you can't even listen." Anger cracked in his tone.

"I _am_ listening. I know you better than anyone – and you're not afraid of these people. They're afraid of you." Harry grabbed Tom's arm, his stomach jumping at the strong contact.

Tom stood, letting out a long breath. "I'm not sure that's true anymore."

Harry jumped up from the couch and put himself in front of Tom. He couldn't let him give in. At least, Tom could keep a semblance of control over his people – if those crazy people were left to their own devices. "Make it true. You have to."

Tom's eyes darkened, the sharp red mudding to a near black. Like a gust of wind, his magical power seemed to blow out of his fingers and his lips wafting over Harry, making him cold. Making him shiver.

With a move so swift and smooth Harry didn't see it happen, Tom pushed him against the wall, his head knocking into an old portrait. Harry gasped at the sharp pain. Tom's chest rose and fell with a heavy, violent desperation.

"Tom – what are you doing?" Harry's voice shook as Tom's magic radiated so strongly Harry was sure it would set him on fire. Engulf him in green flame. Turn his skin to ash.

"Silence," Tom hissed in his ear – but it wasn't in English. No it was that sweet, terrible language they shared. Parseltongue. "Just shut up, Harry."

Tom's mouth met his with no hesitation, no patience, not even a lick of gentleness. It was all fire and sparks and teeth and pain. Harry kissed back. It was hard not to. Not to give in. Even if he hated it about himself Harry had always been attracted to Tom's power.

"Yes..." breathed Harry.

Tom bit down hard on his neck. "Do you like that?"

"Yes." Harry's eyes fluttered shut, closing out anything but the feel of their skin and lips meeting and parting just to meet again.

"I don't care," said Tom again in parseltongue. Then his voice lowered and returned to English. "Harry?" Tom whispered hot against his ear, making his knees wobble. "I need you to help me"

Harry kissed Tom's mouth. "I want to help you. Tell me how I can help you."

There was a painful, torturous silence before Tom's hands went to his Harry's face and squeezed tightly. Desperation written all over his face, he growled. "Call me Voldemort."

Harry stomach flipped. Why would? What was he? Tom didn't go by Voldemort anymore. He hadn't since he returned. They all referred to him as Lord Riddle. Harry had never asked why. "What?"

Tom leaned his head against Harry, the fingers gripping into his skin made him feel like he would never be released. That was possessed by Tom.

"Harry, please." Tom crushed Harry's lips, slamming him against the wall over and over with the kind of control and anger and passion that Harry hadn't experienced since the first time he and Tom were together. It was getting swept away, a rush, an obsession that made the rest of the world blur, mud, into non-existence. It was the kind of kiss that made Harry feel small. Small in a good way. In the kind of way that let Harry tuck himself away into the kisses and touches until he disappeared. Nothing else existed. Nothing but the man whose hands and lips were every where recklessly attacking and tugging at the clothes on his body.

Tom had lost control. And maybe... Harry couldn't believe what he was thinking but maybe just maybe. It was exactly what Tom needed. To remember his power. If that's what it took for Tom to stop the violent outbreak that was certain to reach Harry's citizens as well then he didn't care what it took. What he had to say.

"V-voldemort," he whispered against Tom's ear, still unable to believe what he said as he said it. Tom groaned and kissed him harshly, wildly, feverishly, as if it could be the last time.

_It can't be the last time._

"Say it again." Tom breathed against his lips, his hands braced against the wall behind Harry, their bodies pushed so tightly together oxygen couldn't find its way into Harry's lungs. Tom covered Harry's mouth with his, ripping at his hair, smashing and smudging his glasses. His hands went beneath Harry's legs, picking him up so Harry could lock his ankles at the small of Tom's back. A hot, wet mouth crashed against Harry's neck.

"Voldemort." Harry growled.

Tom's hands dropped out from underneath Harry, almost making him fall. His hands gripped the wall as Tom backed a way a devious smirk on her face.

"We've got work to do," said Tom.

Harry forced air into his lungs, trying to remember what it was they had to do because all Harry could think about was getting his hands back on Tom Riddle. "N-now?"

"Yes."

Harry looked up at Tom, glaring, his heart a frantic beating mess. "You can't - that's just cruel."

"Yes it is. Now make yourself presentable. You look like a bloody mess." Tom smoothed his hair. Harry had no idea how Tom managed to stay so put-together after what just happened.

Harry adjusted his shirt, tucking it back into his pants. "Shut up."

* * *

Draco stood in the hallway outside the Minister's Office with Severus. The Quidditch World Cup Team had arrived early. Apparently, Colin, the Minister's assistant, had changed the date and not informed the rest of the staff.

"Where is the Minister?" asked Severus, running his hand through his greasy black hair.

Draco shrugged. "How would I know?" It wasn't like the Minister informed his press liaison of every move he made.

Severus groaned and slumped down on a leather sofa, his black eyes angry. "If the Minister isn't here, I would like to know why I spent the last twenty four hours learning about Quidditch?"

_Because any self respecting wizard should know about quidditch._

Draco ran a hand through his hair. "He'll be here."

"No he won't." Hermione stepped into the room, her formerly bushy hair now short, perfectly kept. Draco hid the smile that always seemed to creep on his face whenever she entered a room.

Severus stood up. "What? Where is he?"

"Negotiating," she replied, sweeping past Draco, her rosy perfume making it hard for him to speak. He had tried to ignore his crush on Hermione but it was just getting worse. If he wasn't thinking about work, he was thinking about her.

"With Riddle?" asked Severus.

Draco leaned against the wall, trying to create some separation between him and Hermione. She may have forgiven him politically but he knew she would never let him in that way. She could never trust someone who had hurt her so much. "I thought we didn't negotiate with their _kind._"

Hermione sighed. "I don't think it's that kind of negotiation."

Draco didn't understand what she meant. "Well, what kind is it?"

The door to the Minister's office opened again. Tonks entered, her hair slightly mussed. "He's back," she breathed.

"And?" Draco asked.

She pressed her lips together, her face hard. "Riddle is with him."

* * *

Harry remembered the first time he heard of the security breech. He'd only been Minister for six months. One of the assistants in the legal department had seen him. Tom Riddle, sitting in one of the corridors smoking a cigarette. Harry had no idea how Riddle had managed to get past the wards – or why. As far as they'd figured, no one had ever been hurt. But he couldn't permit Riddle to come and go in his country as he pleased.

Harry had sent his patronus to Riddle, asking him to meet at the chateau in Paris. Riddle was already there when Harry arrived, sitting smugly on the couch, his arm stretched over the leather back.

"You can't just walk into the Ministry whenever you want," said Harry, slamming the door.

Riddle stood and glanced around the room. "I'm not in the Ministry."

Harry's eyes narrowed. He was not in the mood of Riddle's attitude. "You were earlier."

"I was not-" he replied smoothly.

_Liar._

"Riddle," Harry shouted.

"Potter." There was a mocking smirk on Riddle's handsome face that churned Harry's stomach. It really was unfair that anyone that heartless and cruel should have a face _and a body_ like that.

Harry sighed. "Stay out of my country. I stay out of yours."

"Because you're afraid." Tom huffed, his nose lifted in superiority.

Harry shook his head. He was not afraid. Death Eater territory was cold and dark and you had to pay to use the public toilets. "No because it's gross."

Riddle disappeared into black smoke then reappeared directly in front of Harry. Not a breath away. "Don't make fun of a man's country."

Harry stepped even closer, forcing eye contact. "You're not a man."

Riddle grinned, then lifted on of his long fingers to the side of Harry's neck and traced a slow circle. "Then what am I?" he whispered in Harry's ear.

"I – you're – a -" Why couldn't he get words to come out normally?

"Potter, speechless. You are quite beautiful when you're mouth is shut." Riddle tossed the lock of hair that covered Harry's scar out of the way. A shiver trickled through his blood, a feeling he wanted to ignore but was as real and strong as anything he'd ever felt.

_You killed my parents. You killed my friends. _

"Stay out of the Ministry – and out of my country," snapped Harry, ripping away from Riddle's clutches.

"Or what?"

Harry's eyes flashed to Riddle. "You step one foot on my soil. I'll consider that an act of war – and if we went to war you'd lose half your territory and you know it."

"Then I guess we'll just have to see each other here." Riddle's lips pressed together then painted a smile on his _handsome _stupid face.

"Don't count on it."

Harry couldn't even count the amount of times he'd been back since then.

* * *

It was always strange being around Riddle when other people were there. He had to keep track of his hands and his eyes at all times. They were meeting secretly, not in his office, but in a dark room hidden somewhere beneath the Department of Mysteries.

Harry looked at Riddle who was sitting with his legs straddled over a metal chiar. "What Death Eaters do you have that are a hundred percent loyal to you? No matter what."

"Bellatrix Lestrange," he replied.

A pang of jealously shot through his stomach. He knew Riddle had no feelings for Bellatrix but she was a loyal servant – and she was in love with him.

"Comforting..." muttered Harry, his eyes flashing to Riddle. He saw Riddle bit back a smirk.

"What?" Severus's eyes narrowed. He kept himself as far from Riddle as possible like a bat hanging in the dark corner.

"Nothing." Both Harry and Riddle said at the same time. They had to watch themselves...

Harry was thankful that Riddle dived right back into matter at hand. "And then there are the Death Eaters who don't want extreme blood purity to take over. The Malfoys – and I've got a few half-bloods."

Draco had been standing silently by Severus, his thin face solemn, pointed down. He stepped out of the shadows and said. "I can help."

"You're not military," said Tonks quickly. Harry didn't even have time to answer. Besides, he was surprised. Draco usually did everything he could to avoid anything relating to the Death Eaters or his family.

"But I am a Malfoy – and a former Death Eater." His grey eyes shot to Riddle. "Though under no circumstances will I take direct orders from you."

"Draco-" Hermione's voice was soft, her gaze lingering unnaturally long on Draco's frame.

Riddle leaned over to me. "Are they together?" he asked.

"No," said Hermione, but her voice cracked on the words.

"Yeah. Okay." Riddle rolled his eyes and Harry kicked his leg when no one was looking.

Harry stood in front of Riddle, hoping he could express what he wanted to with just the curve of his lips and the warmth in his eyes. "You have to go yourself, you know that right?"

Riddle paused. "Yes."

Tonks, arms crossed, said. "We can send aurors."

Riddle shook his head. Ron would freak anyway if Harry asked him to send their friends to help the Death Eaters.

"I can go," said Harry softly.

Riddle bit down on his lip. "I need to do this myself." He half-smiled, glancing to the other people in the room. "At least I need them to think I did."

The plan was to let the Death Eaters into Ministry territory and then back across their border. The so-called true pureblood rebellion was blocked from the inside by protective spells that allowed the dark wizards to attack the half-blood town. But the protective spells on the Ministry side were much weaker and wouldn't give Riddle away when they broke.

"We shouldn't let Death Eaters into this country," said Severus.

Harry turned to him, back straight. "We did it before and we survived." Not that the state dinner had gone very well.

"How? I'll never know," snarled Severus, a biting hatred in his voice. His face burned scarlet as he glared at Riddle, his hand on his wand. Riddle stood from his chair, reaching for his own wand.

Harry stepped between them, his back to Riddle. "Severus, I think you should leave."

With a huff, Severus shook his head and pushed past Draco to the door. A venomous gleam in his eye, he turned and spoke directly to Harry. "He killed your mother. In cold blood. He looked her in the eye and murdered her. Don't forget that, Minister."

Harry swallowed, a sudden rage pounding through him that he had to fight back. Severus was right, of course. But it wasn't like he had forgiven Riddle or forgotten what he did all those years ago. It was just that Harry couldn't hold on to the bitterness like that. It would eat him up, tear him to pieces. He had to let go.

* * *

Draco stood in his office, putting things in order for Mary to take over while he was away. He heard a knock at the door. His mouth went dry when he saw Hermione standing in the door frame.

"You sent the Quidditch World Cup team home?" she asked.

He nodded. "We gave them a picture with the deputy Minister." Dean Thomas had been more than willing to take over for the Minister on that one.

Her heels clacked on the floor as she made her way towards him. "I'm sure he was thrilled."

"Actually, yeah." Draco couldn't look directly at her and he didn't know why. When had things changed between them? There wasn't a moment. It was a slow fall.

"You can't do this," she suddenly said.

He lifted his gaze to meet hers, his heart thrumming against his ribcage. "Why not, Hermione?"

Her face twisted together. Her thinking face. "It's not safe. We need you here. Who cares? I'm not sure why Minster is getting all involved in this to be honest but he's the Minister. I gave him my two cents. He chose not to listen. That's all I can do for him."

Draco wished he could stay. He didn't want to risk his life. His life here was what he wanted. Getting up and seeing Hermione's face everyday, but his family could be in danger. "I have to go."

She stood taller. "I can order you to stay."

"Then I'll hand you my resignation." That was the last thing he wanted to do. He loved it here. Being a part of something good. Making up for what he'd done in his past. "They're going to come after my parents because of me. Because I'm a blood traitor."

Hermione shook her head. "It's not your responsibility."

Draco threw on his cloak. "Why does it matter so much to you anyway?"

Hermione's eyes held with his for one beat, two beats. Their chests rising and falling in a slow rhythm. "You're a good press liaison," she muttered. Draco's face fell. If that's how she wanted to play it then fine.

"Okay," he said, pushing past Hermione to the door. He had to fight the urge to grab her shoulder, push her against the wall and kiss her until both of them forgot who they were.

When his hand was on the door handle, Hermione said. "I'm coming with you."

* * *

Riddle had summoned Harry to the chateau in France. It had been three months since the last time they were there. He had been hopeful that Riddle had given up on his desire to meet there but it seemed he had not.

"What do you need, Riddle?" asked Harry as he stepped inside the room, letting the door shut behind him.

Riddle sat on the couch a chessboard floating in mid-air in front of him. "Wizard's chess?"

Merlin, he had to be kidding. "You made me come all the way to France so we could play wizard's chess. This is the last time-" snarled Harry. Riddle had absolutely no respect for his time or-

"Tell me you didn't a break? Being the leader isn't as much fun as you think it's going to be. It's like half the country couldn't get dressed in the morning if you didn't send out a press release telling them how to do it. It's utterly exhausting, don't you agree?"

Of course Harry agreed but he wasn't going to say so to Riddle's face. And being with him wasn't much a break anyway. He found their conversations exhausting.

"I'm not playing wizard's chess with you." Harry turned toward the door. Riddle slowly stood up from the couch. He could hear his footsteps coming from behind.

Riddle leaned his chin on Harry's shoulder, making him tense. "You know what you are, Potter? You're a spoil sport. You're a giant rain cloud that bursts everyone's bubble." He spun around in front of him, smiling, looking damn gorgeous which just made Harry madder.

"That's a hell of a mixed metaphor," replied Harry.

"Come on, Minister. Doesn't all that self-righteous brooding and angst get tiresome after a while?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "I'm not brooding. I'm pissed. There's a huge difference."

"What are you _pissed_ about?"

"Well you see there was this guy. He killed my parents, stalked me pretty much my entire childhood, hunted down my friends and then invited me to play wizard's chess with him."

Riddle laughed, a cold sound that somehow made heat rise up in Harry's chest. "Sounds like a pretty great guy. I'll bet he's good looking too."

"Just to make things easier for me," Harry spat, not thinking about what he was saying before he said it. Yes. Riddle was phenomenal looking but what did that mean.

Riddle grinned, all devious and smirky. "You think I'm sexy."

"I didn't say that."

Riddle's fingers gripped Harry's tie, running down the fabric with a soft elegance that made Harry's legs shake. "You want me," he purred.

Harry grabbed Riddle's hand to pull it away. "I'm leaving."

Riddle bit down on his lip and let out a small laugh as he blocked Harry's way out. "The Minister of Magic has got it bad for-"

Harry could not take the teasing anymore. There was only one way he could think of to shut Riddle's stupid mouth. He slammed his lips against Riddle's, struck by the warmth, by the spark shooting through his body exploding in his skin like millions of spells breaking him apart.

When he pulled away, still unable to process to what he did, he looked at Riddle who looked twice as surprised, mouth hanging open, still wet and red from the kiss.

"Speechless, Riddle," said Harry.

* * *

Harry and Riddle stood alone in the dark basement room. He'd sent the rest of his staff on their way.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go?" asked Harry, his hand reaching for Riddle's in a stolen moment of tenderness.

Riddle stiffened and pulled away, his eyes stern and serious. "I told you, Harry."

Harry looked down at his feet, unsure of what to say. "I know – I just."

Riddle grinned and let out a small laugh. "You're worried about me."

Of course he wasn't. Of course he was. "No. You can't die remember."

Riddle's hand fell against Harry's cheek, brushing a stray bit of hair out of his eyes. "Because I keep a piece of myself with you." His thumb lay on Harry's forehead. A cool sensation spread through him. It used to hurt when he was close to Riddle. Now it just felt good right. Riddle leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to Harry's scar.

"I hate you," breathed Harry as he pulled away. He did. Harry hated how Riddle confused him, how he made him want, how he made him feel. Hated, hated, hated that he was falling in love with him.

Riddle shook his head then met Harry's gaze. "I hate you too."

And the cold war was over.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Sorry this chapter took so long. It was really hard to write and I don't know why. Please review if you get a chance. I love to hear your thoughts and I respond to all the reviews. Thanks again!**


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